


Thermophilic Bacteria

by ElenaCee



Series: Devil's Trap [12]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Celestial Physiology, Divine Regression Therapy, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, God has a Plan, Sick Lucifer, Sickfic, Sleepy Cuddles, Unrealistic Depictions of Biochemistry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 07:53:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11309013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElenaCee/pseuds/ElenaCee
Summary: Lucifer manages to get sick, which leads to its own kind of reveal.





	Thermophilic Bacteria

**Author's Note:**

> I write a sickfic of some kind for almost every fandom I'm in, so this is it for Lucifer. I'm aware that, in real life, what Ella does in this fic would take weeks, or even months, but I plead poetic license (always a good excuse), and all bets are off when Celestials are involved, anyway.
> 
> Thanks are owed to titC and Moonatoms, who helped inspire this fic, and to Macko_M, for general inspiration.

Gradually, the sound of Chloe’s alarm registered in her consciousness. She let go of her dream reluctantly, and opened her eyes.

Their camping trip already was a memory. Trixie was staying with Dan now, which let Chloe spend time with Lucifer in his penthouse. They’d had a lovely evening, full of food, wine, sex, cuddles, and feathers, lazy and gentle and perfect. But now, it was early next morning, and for Chloe at least, duty called.

Next to her, Lucifer was still in bed and apparently asleep, which was rare, but not unheard of. He hardly stirred when she extricated herself from his arms and the covers, and indeed had just barely managed to drag his eyes open when she was already up and standing next to the bed.

“Hey, sleepy Devil,” she said fondly, “I’ve got to rush. See you in the precinct, yeah?”

“Kay,” he muttered, blinking slowly.

Amused, she bent down to kiss him and tousle his tousled hair even more. He smiled, eyes closing, and she had to swallow against a sudden upsurge of love because of how adorable he was when he was this sleepy. It completely obliterated any disappointment she might have felt about not being served coffee in bed this morning. “New case, remember?”

“Hmhm,” he hummed, stretching, arching his back before snuggling back down. “I’ll be there in a bit.”

 

* * *

 

Almost two hours later, he still hadn’t turned up.

Now, this was unheard of. When he said he’d be there soon, he would, unless something prevented him from keeping his word. Suppressing a shiver of worry at the belated realization of how hot he had felt when she kissed him, Chloe dialled his number.

There was an alarming delay, but he picked up after the fifth dialtone. “Hmm?” His voice sounded strange; weak and a little hoarse.

“Lucifer, where are you?”

“I’m….” There was a pause. Then, “Chloe?”

Her worry settled like a lead balloon in her gut. She had never heard him sound so uncertain, so out of it. “Yeah, it’s me. You okay?”

“Don’t know. Let me check,” he replied. And then he fell silent.

“Lucifer?”

No reply. Chloe was out of her chair and on her way to the Lieutenant to request personal time before she had disconnected the call.

 

* * *

 

Her GPS tracker had shown her that Lucifer, or at least his phone, was still at Lux, eliminating at least one concern about having to chase all over LA trying to find him.

Not only that; he was still in bed when she reached his penthouse, burrowed under the duvet, his phone loosely held in one hand, eyes closed. He didn’t stir at the ding of the elevator. From the looks of him, he had never managed to leave his bed.

“Lucifer?”

Approaching him, she could see shivers wrack his otherwise motionless body. She put one hand onto his blanket-swathed shoulder to shake him awake, but he didn’t respond beyond a soft sound of protest.

Gently, she touched his face, and almost recoiled. He felt hot, not just inhumanly warm the way she had come to expect from her hellion, but really hot, and yet he kept shivering like he was freezing, clutching at the duvet to pull it more tightly around him. His breathing was faster than normal, and he made soft moaning noises on each exhalation as if in pain.

His eyelids twitched when she touched his face, and his soft moans coalesced into another small noise of protest.

“Lucifer,” she said again, “can you hear me? Please, open your eyes.”

He groaned and muttered something she couldn’t understand, but she didn’t really need to get a coherent response to realize that this was a very sick Devil running a truly epic fever.

Her first instinct was to bring his temperature down. But when she tried to wrap a wet towel around one of his calves in the time-honored tradition of mothers and grandmothers everywhere, he growled and kicked blindly, hard enough to shove her off the bed.

“Great,” she grumbled under her breath, picking herself up and fishing for her phone. “You’re worse than Trixie, but her I can wrangle into submission. Gonna need help for you.”

 

* * *

 

“Well,” Maze said, first glaring down at Lucifer and then up at Chloe, “this has never happened to him before.”

Chloe grimaced. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

Maze kept glaring. “Seems like you don’t just make him vulnerable to injury, but to sickness as well.”

“You can blame me all you like later, Maze. For now, please just tell me what I can do to help him.”

Maze’s glare didn’t ease. “I have no idea. Like I said, it’s never happened before. I didn’t even know that he could get sick. That’s a human thing. You made him ill, Decker, you cure him.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “At least help me hold him down so I can try to get his fever down before he gets so hot that he sets the bed on fire.”

“Fine,” Maze growled. “Fat lot of good that will do, though.”

Turned out Maze was right. Lucifer’s temperature, according to the oven thermometer (the clinical thermometer Chloe found in an unopened first aid kit had maxed out), was 110 degrees and didn’t show any sign of dropping even with all of his limbs wrapped in wet towels.

It didn’t help that Lucifer, barely lucid enough for coordinated movement, kept trying to get the towels off him.

“Lucifer,” Chloe again attempted to reach him. “We’re trying to help you. This is just to bring your fever down. Can you hear me, babe?”

He blinked his eyes open, then screwed them shut again, bringing one hand weakly in front of his face, fingers curled, as if to shield his eyes from a glare, groaning. “What….” he slurred, barely audible.

With another muttered curse, Maze went to draw the blinds.

“Lucifer,” Chloe said his name again, “Lucifer. Look at me. Please.”

He blinked some more, still squinting and hiding his eyes behind his hand. “Where… am I…?”

Once again, worry spiked in Chloe’s gut. “You’re home, in your bed. Look, that’s Maze over there. You’re safe.”

“What happened? Why’s it so bright in here? Light’s all… funny.”

Chloe looked around helplessly. The light wasn’t funny, or bright in any way, shape, or form. With the blinds drawn, she’d have difficulty reading even normal print. “Maze…?” she asked.

“No idea,” the demon growled.

“This isn’t home,” Lucifer whispered, staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Where am I? What happened?” He managed to focus on Chloe. “I… know you.” His tense expression dissolved into a gentle smile. “Chloe. Didn’t think you were real.”

“Of course I’m real, Lucifer,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Thought you were a vision from Dad.”

“No, I’m real. I’m really real. Here, can you feel this?” She stroked his hair, his face, shocked again at the heat of his skin.

His eyes closed. “Ohhhh…”

“See? I’m real. You’re home. You’re safe.”

He dragged his eyes open again, looking from her to the window, then back at her. “No. ‘S not home.” He screwed his eyes shut in an expression of confused despair.

“Get some rest,” Chloe said. “Try to go to sleep.”

His eyes remained closed, his fast breathing deepening, but then he wrenched his eyes back open. “No. Don’t want to sleep. You’ll be gone.”

“Lucifer, I promise I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

But he was shaking his head. “Not risking it. Best vision I ever had.” He curled up on his side, eyes stubbornly open and fixed on her, but unable to lie still for all his convulsive shivering.

“This isn’t good,” Chloe muttered, both hands on Lucifer’s shoulders, trying to stop his slow writhing. “I’m calling in reinforcements.”

 

* * *

 

“High fever can cause confusion and even delirium in humans,” Linda was saying, “and Celestials may not be much different in that regard, but what do I know? We can try to bring down his fever, maybe then the confusion will ease.”

Ella, meanwhile, was setting up a mobile lab on Lucifer’s bar, nodding along. “Don’t worry, Chloe, we’ll find out what’s bugging him.”

“Well,” Linda amended, “Ella will. I won’t be able to help much with that, really.”

With the arrival of the rest of her Tribe, Chloe was already feeling a little more confident. She hadn’t left Lucifer’s side, having found out rather dramatically that he needed to see her, better yet to feel her touch, and not being able to do either thoroughly disquieted him.

He still hadn’t recognized his surroundings.

Also, he had lost his glamour twice in the last half hour, only shifting back to his human form with a noticeable effort and taking longer each time. Chloe wondered whether she should warn Ella, who hadn’t seen his Devil face before, that it might happen again.

“Okay,” Ella said, bounding up next to Lucifer’s bed with a white, stick-like thing in her hand. “Scoot over, I need to take a swab of his tongue or oral mucosa, so I can identify the bug.”

Chloe moved to make room. “Careful,” she warned. “He kicked me earlier when I tried to put a towel around his -”

With a sound that was a cross between a moan and a roar, Lucifer twisted his head away and lashed out, sending Ella flying.

“Ella! Are you okay?” Chloe asked, catching Lucifer’s flailing hand and stroking his face with her other to calm him down.

“Fine,” Ella said cheerfully, picking herself back up. “Had much worse from my brothers. This ain’t gonna work, though.” She unwrapped a new swab and held it out to Chloe. “He’s crazy strong. You do it. You’re allowed to touch him, obviously.”

Chloe took the swab, looking at Lucifer dubiously. “He’s not going to like me poking around in his mouth, either. Not when he doesn’t understand what’s going on.”

“I know,” Ella said, “but I need a sample, otherwise I can’t do a thing for him. Just, I don’t know, trick him.”

Trick the Devil. Right.

 _Direct approach first._ “Lucifer,” she said, “I need you to open your mouth, okay? C’mon, look at me. It’s me, Chloe. You know you can trust me. I wouldn’t hurt you. You know that, right?”

He blinked at her. “Why are you here?”

She froze. “What…?”

“You shouldn’t be here, Chloe. Not here. You don’t belong here. It’s all wrong.” His voice was very weak, breathy, the words slurred.

Chloe didn’t know what to say. Was he telling her that he didn’t want her in his home anymore?

“Chloe,” Linda said from the doorway, “ask him where he is.”

Oh. Right. Delirious.

“I don’t know,” Lucifer answered when she asked him, sounding confused. “Tell me, please.”

“You’re in your home, in your penthouse. In the building where Lux is. Remember?”

“Lux…” he repeated. “Lux,” he said again, pronouncing it differently this time. “Light? Where the light is? I don’t understand.” He made another small sound of despair and closed his eyes. “I’m so tired.”

“Don’t worry about that now. Just remember that you’re safe here, okay? Can you open your mouth for me?”

He didn’t respond. And then his glamour failed.

Ella gasped and made a gargling noise that would have been funny in any other circumstance. “Holy shit,” she muttered, turning away.

Linda immediately went to her.

“Sorry, Ella,” Chloe said, keeping her attention on Lucifer. In his Devil form, he felt even hotter than before, and she realized that she was feeling his true temperature only now. His fever was even higher than they’d assumed. They were running out of time.

She gently put her hand on his mouth, trying to part his lips and push his jaw down, but he moved his head violently from one side to the other to shake her hand off, then buried his face in the pillow with a breathy whimper.

“Don’t know what I was expecting,” Ella was saying from behind Chloe. She sounded rattled but not freaked. “Horns and a tail, maybe? Not this third degree burn victim look though, that’s for sure.”

“Do you need to sit down?” Linda asked. Chloe didn’t look at them, keeping her attention on Lucifer.

“Nah, I’m fine. Just surprised. Don’t mind me.”

 _He hasn’t hit me_ , Chloe reasoned. _That’s something._ “Lucifer, please. It’s really important.” She stroked his burned-looking skull, trying to get him to calm down, to face her again.

He made a soft gasping sound that was very familiar to Chloe, a sound he only made when she caressed his face and he was overwhelmed with feelings of tenderness. That, at least, had the fever not managed to erase. She kept going, stroking his head, and, when he finally relaxed enough to let her touch it, his face.

He brought up one hand to put it upon her hand on his face, shuddering, his mouth falling open in a soft moan. Finding himself enough, even, to shift back to his human form.

She saw her chance. Quickly, she put the swab into his mouth, brushing it firmly along the inside of his lower lip.

The reaction was instantaneous. He threw his head back, twisting away from the swab, and his eyes flashed red fire. But he didn’t lash out, didn’t try to hit her. He merely growled.

“I’m sorry,” she forced out, holding the swab with her arm stretched out to where she hoped Ella was waiting, her focus on Lucifer. “I’m sorry. I had to do that, to help you.”

His growl eased into a groan, and suddenly, his wings were there, curling around him, pinions fanned, shielding him. From her.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, heart sinking. Someone took the swab off her, and she was free to use both her hands to touch his wings, stroke along them. She could feel them quiver. “I’m sorry, Lucifer.”

Finally, he moved the wing that was covering him aside, and his arms came up around her, pulling her close. “You got it, Ella?” she asked, not looking away from him, feeling like she had betrayed his trust, like she had desanctified something that was intimately theirs.

“Got it,” Ella said.

“Good,” Chloe returned, “because I’m not doing that again.”

 

* * *

 

While Ella worked, Chloe did her best to keep Lucifer calm. He was in his Devil form more than he was in his human one now. She didn’t think that he even realized that he kept shifting, and he didn’t hide his wings again, either. Also, his eyes flashed red whenever something disturbed him, as if it was only a matter of time before he lost control completely.

As soon as he realized that Chloe was near him, though, he would gratefully wrap his arms around her, holding her close, breathing her in, and the fire did not reach his eyes. The only problem with that was, when he drifted off to sleep, he did not let go, instead holding her even more tightly, with his supernatural strength untempered. It took Maze’s demon strength to keep his arms away from Chloe long enough for her to get out of his compulsive hug before he might injure her.

He still hadn’t recognized his home. And he kept shivering while his temperature kept rising.

“Ella,” Chloe said, using one of Lucifer’s irregular naps to take a break, “how’s it coming?”

“Well,” Ella said without looking up from her field microscope, “once I got over the whole, you know, angel wings thing and had a brief but heart-felt conversation with the Big Guy about all of this -”

“Yeah. Sorry again for springing it on you like that.”

“S’okay. It’s not like it’s your fault, or like I didn’t know, theoretically. Anyway, all known antibiotics are out, so I’ve got to find one that works on what’s bugging him. I’ve requisitioned his oven to incubate and multiply the sample, toasty 113 degrees. All human pathogens - and human benign bacteria, for that matter - would just die, but there seems to be a lot of life in his tissues, all nothing I’ve ever seen before in a human swab. I’m basically flying by the seat of my pants identifying the bad guy and telling it apart from the good guys.”

She looked up to give Chloe a bright smile. “Upside, he won’t get herpes from you, and he can’t give you a Celestial bug, either, if they even exist. All your germs will just burn up in his body, and all his will freeze to death in yours. Neat, huh?”

Chloe supposed that, at one point in the future when this was over and done with, she’d actually find that neat. Right now, though, she was much too worried to find the silver lining. “How long, Ella?”

“Can’t say, sorry. There’s no textbook knowledge that covers the microbiome of oral bacterial species living in Celestial mucosa for me to go on. I’m selecting likely candidates and see if they attack his tissue in vitro. And by ‘likely candidates’ I mean germs that look at me funny. So far, nada.”

When Chloe returned to Lucifer’s bedside, he blearily opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw happened to be his own arm, currently burned-looking. He made a sound of shock and despair. His other hand brushed over the scarred skin, drawing his eyes to it, then to his other arm. His head fell back, eyes screwed shut.

He was reacting as if this was the first time he’d seen his Devil form.

“No...” he moaned, eyes still closed. “What have you done to me, Dad? What have I done to deserve this?” He held his hand in front of his face and just stared at it, eyes wide.

When Chloe sat down next to him on the bed, he started, his attention switching from his hand to her face. Then his expression of horror turned into a confused frown.

“Lucifer,” she said, reaching out to take the hand he still held in front of his face.

He watched her take it, blinking with what looked like incredulity.

The moment was broken when another shiver wracked his body. He closed his eyes, groaning. “Why’s it so cold in here?” he muttered.

Chloe stroked his hand. “Lucifer, it’s really warm in here. Do you want me to open a window and let the heat in?”

“What?” he said softly. “No….” His eyes moved back to his hand in hers. “No.” His voice broke on that last word. His orange-red eyes filled, and then, to Chloe’s dismay, he started to cry, pulling his wings around himself to hide his head between them. “What have you done, Dad,” he sobbed. “It’s not fair. All I wanted was free will, and for that… it’s not fair.”

Chloe looked at him helplessly, not knowing what to say, instinctively putting her hands on his wings again to stroke along the feathers, hoping that her touch would help him.

“I think I know what’s happening,” Linda said softly from where she’d requisitioned the chair at the foot of Lucifer’s bed. “I think he’s regressing to just after his Fall.”

That made sense, but it still sounded disquieting.

“It’s also why he doesn’t recognize his home,” Linda went on. “He thinks he’s in Hell.”

“What can we do?” Chloe asked, still stroking Lucifer’s wings, gently trying to get them to move aside so she could touch his face. She could feel him shiver, could hear his soft sobs, and she wanted, needed to comfort him.

If he was reacting like this to the sight of his burned skin, was he feeling the pain from his burns again as well? Would he regress further? Was the fever driving him mad? There was a point of no return for humans when a fever raged too high for too long. What if there was one for Celestials, too? He would not die, because he was still immortal, but what if there was some permanent damage?

“Let it play out, for now,” Linda said gently. “Go along with it as much as you can. Maybe some good can actually come from this.”

Chloe looked at Lucifer, at what she could currently see of him. His wings kept shivering, but were relaxing slowly, possibly from exhaustion.

 _God, what’s happening to him?_ she prayed. _Is this Your doing? Is it mine? Did I give him this illness? If so, what’s the point? I know I’m afraid of losing him. Nothing new here. Or is Linda right? Is this some divine form of regression therapy? If so, forgive me please, You suck. This is not how you help your children recover from old trauma._

She didn’t expect a reply, nor did she get one.

After a while, Lucifer’s wings fell weakly onto the bed, leaving him accessible to her once again, so she insinuated herself into his arms, holding him, feeling his hot, wet face bury itself against her neck. Being close to him eased some of her tension but none of her fear.

“Gonna need another sample, Chloe,” Ella said apologetically. “Blood sample this time.”

Chloe was running her hand over Lucifer’s skull. His breathing still wasn’t regular, hitching from time to time as he lay battered by ancient pain. “If you think I’m sticking a needle in him right now, think again,” she said, keeping her voice gentle.

“No, no,” Ella said. “Lacrimal fluid is actually almost equivalent to blood serum, at least in humans. All I need is some of that. No need to poke holes in him.”

“You need his tears,” Chloe repeated. Sometimes, her life was indistinguishable from a fairytale. This was one of those times.

“Uh-huh,” Ella confirmed. “Just a little bit. In this, please.” She held out a tiny plastic cylinder with a cap attached.

“Right.” Chloe took the cap, her other hand never ceasing its stroking. Well. It made sense, in a way, to use the Devil’s tears to save the Devil’s life.

 

* * *

 

Two more hours passed. Lucifer slept fitfully, no longer crushing Chloe but still needing her close to him. He would blink his eyes open occasionally to look around blankly before falling asleep again. His fever raged unchecked.

When he next opened his eyes, he had managed to restore his human glamour, and he focused on Chloe’s face, but this time, he didn’t smile in recognition. Instead, he looked at her in a curiously detached way.

Chloe felt her heart gallop and her stomach sink. Had they lost him? Had he regressed too far to recognize her now?

He said something, but it was not English.

She raised her eyes to look for help and found Linda’s face.

“Just say something,” Linda said softly, still in the chair at the foot of Lucifer’s bed. “If I’m right, he’ll switch languages.”

“I’m sorry, Lucifer,” Chloe said, feeling slightly silly but mostly worried. “I don’t understand that language.”

He blinked, frowned. “I said, ‘you’re very beautiful’.”

Chloe felt a chill. His accent was different. It was no longer British. He trilled his ‘r’s and pronounced all the diphthongs flatly. “Thank you,” she said, for want of anything better or more intelligent.

“You’re very young to be here,” he went on, still in that strange accent. “What happened?”

“I…” Go along, Linda had said. Well, she’d try. “I don’t know what happened. Can you tell me where I am?”

“You’re in Heaven,” Lucifer said. “But you shouldn’t be. It’s all very confusing.” He closed his eyes, muttering something Chloe couldn’t understand, but it sounded distressed.

She felt the familiar need to comfort him. “Lucifer…”

He opened his eyes. “What did you call me?”

“Lucifer. That’s your name.”

“No.” He smiled. “It’s a nice name, but it’s not my name.”

 _Play along._ “What is your name, then?”

He blinked. “I’m.... Samael.” He frowned. “That doesn’t feel right, either. What’s happening?”

She put one hand on his cheek. “Don’t worry about it.”

His frown dissolved into an expression of pure happiness like she had never seen before on his face. “You are… touching me.”

She returned his smile, because she couldn’t help it. “Yes, I am. Is that okay?”

“I like it.”

She trailed her fingers along his cheek and up again into his hair. “Is this also good?”

His eyes closed. “Very much so.”

Something good might come of this, Linda had said. “Has anyone ever done this for you before?” she asked, fearing the answer.

He kept his eyes closed, turning his head into her caress the way he had always done. “Not like this, no.”

Her heart broke. He truly had regressed, all the way back to before he Fell, when he was still in Heaven, still a part of the family. And yet, no one had ever caressed him even then.

“Do you want more?” she asked. Tempting him. Tempting the tempter, who was not yet the tempter.

“Please,” he said immediately, opening his eyes and giving her a strangely artless smile. The genuine one she saw so very rarely. Possibly the only one he used to smile, before he Fell. No evasions, no bargains. Just stating a need like any child would.

She let her second hand join her first. His smile widened.

“Is this nice?” she asked, needing him to stay with her. His skin still felt hot, and it wouldn’t be long before he fell asleep again. And then, who would he be when he woke up?

“Oh yes,” he said happily, closing his eyes again, simply enjoying the touch. There was none of the desperate urgency in him that she was used to. It seemed like he was somehow unblemished, naive. Young.

This was her chance to undo some of the damage that had been done to him. “Samael,” she said carefully, “look at me.”

His eyes opened. He gave her another one of his precious smiles.

“I’m going to kiss you,” she said.

“I don’t understand,” he said, openly curious. “What is ‘kiss’?”

 _God,_ she thought, _I really hope You’re incorporeal and don’t have any lips to kiss Your children with, because otherwise this would be a disgrace._

“It’s something humans do to show they love someone,” she said, trying to keep her voice from breaking. “And you deserve to be loved. You are loved. Never forget that.”

With that, she framed his face in her hands and leaned in to touch her lips to his.

He didn’t freeze, didn’t hesitate. He simply returned the pressure, sighing softly. So she kept going, pressing soft, gentle kisses onto his cheeks and forehead before returning to his lips. He opened his willingly when she did, instinctively knowing what to do. Of course he would. His whole being screamed sensuality, and clearly, that had always been a part of him, even before.

After only a few minutes, his movements slowed, and he fell asleep, this time without clutching at her as he did so, and lay quiet.

 

* * *

 

“All right,” Ella said softly, holding up a small bottle containing a clear fluid, “I’ve identified one single strain of thermophilic bacteria in his oral mucosa that’s definitely from Earth, the only one that could survive his body heat. It’s got to be the one that has infected him. I made up an antibiotic to kill it off. As far as I can tell, this should work.”

Chloe nodded. She implicitly trusted Ella and her off-the-wall ingenuity.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Linda wanted to know.

Ella shrugged. “This stuff can’t kill him, if that’s what you mean. Worst case is that I’ve wasted eleven hours of my life and that it won’t help him. In which case I’ll have to start over, which would suck, but not be the end of the world.”

Chloe looked at Lucifer, fast asleep. It was the first time he’d slept for longer than twenty minutes. She had hoped he was recovering naturally, but his temperature was still way too high, so he had probably just succumbed to exhaustion. Running a fever this high and for this long apparently put a strain even on Celestials.

“What’s better,” she asked slowly, “me being here with him, or me being far away? I mean, when we give it to him.”

Ella thought. “No idea,” she admitted.

“If he was infected while with you, then the cure will only work when he’s with you,” Linda put in. “At least, that’s my intuition.”

“Right,” Ella said. She looked cheery and bright-eyed despite having spent half a day doing microbiological groundwork, which made Chloe a little envious. “I’ll just put this in some water for him, then.”

 

* * *

 

Chloe was alone with Lucifer.

Linda had gone to take care of her patients; Ella had returned to the precinct, and Maze had wandered off somewhere.

Chloe lay next to him on his bed, her hand in his hair, watching him sleep, willing him to get better with each breath he took. He hadn’t woken up again since she had given him the antibiotic to drink. He hadn’t said anything then, had simply drunk and gone back to sleep, and the more time passed, the more Chloe was afraid of where his mind would be when he woke up next.

Then the first beads of sweat appeared on his brow, and she sighed in relief. The fever was breaking; one worry gone at least.

Half an hour later, now drenched in sweat and his temperature down five degrees, he opened his eyes. His wings vanished at the same time.

“Hey,” she said softly, wondering who he was, whether he would even understand her. “How are you feeling?”

He looked at her and smiled. It was not Samael’s pure smile; it was a smile that had been through hell and emerged stronger, a little cynical, a little bitter, but still a happy smile. “Good, actually,” he said. His voice was hoarse. “I had the strangest dream.”

She returned his smile, relieved to hear that his familiar accent was back. “I thought angels didn’t dream.”

He cleared his throat. “They don’t. But maybe the Devil does, now.” He closed his eyes, stretched. “It was a nice dream. If dreams are always like this, I’d like a dozen each night, please.”

“What was it about?” she asked, thinking she already knew the answer.

He blinked, then frowned. “It’s… gone. I don’t recall any details, except that I felt good.” He looked at her. “I think you were in it.” He blinked some more. “Why aren’t you at the precinct? For that matter, why am I still here? What happened?”

“You’ve been sick,” she said, running a towel over his sweaty forehead.

“The Devil doesn’t get sick,” he said automatically, despite the evidence.

She smiled. Some things never changed, and she hoped to Lucifer’s Father that they never would. “Well, you’ve been keeping Ella pretty busy for someone who doesn’t get sick.”

“Have I indeed. She cured me?”

“Hmhm.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, and Chloe wondered whether she should ask him about things, about Samael, about his Fall. Was it better to let those ancient wounds heal, or should she bring them up, now that the fever had brought them to the surface anyway?

She’d just decided to ask Linda about it, when Lucifer rolled onto his side and promptly made a face. “Ugh. Why’s my bed so wet?”

“It’s called sweat,” she said, amused.

“Ugh. Don’t like it.”

“Well,” she said, “be glad you were mostly out of it the whole time you were feverish, then. You definitely wouldn’t have liked that, either.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He looked at her, focusing on her face, reaching out a hand to brush against her cheek. “You should get some rest.”

“I will, once your temperature is back down to your normal devilish level.”

“I’m fine. Sleep. Now. On the couch, though. This is just gross.” He pulled at the covers, indicating how soaked-through they were.

Shaking her head, Chloe got to her feet. “Scoot over and tell me where your duvet covers are. Sheets, too.”

She changed his bedding while he whined about getting cold without the duvet, and she once again contemplated how the Devil was just an overgrown teenager.

But later, when he lay asleep next to her, the fringe of his black lashes casting shadows across his noble features, she felt that familiar attraction again, the one that had nothing to do with his supernatural charm, the one she’d never felt for any teenager, not even when she’d been one herself. She couldn’t wait for him to recover completely, so she could show him how much she wanted him.

 _Down, girl_ , she told herself. _You’re getting as bad as he is._

Well, if that involved overcoming old habits, learning for care about others, learning to love unconditionally, and generally becoming a better person, she’d take it, any day of the week.


End file.
